W E M A O W A T H I M C?
by Raven Wings
Summary: *COMPLETED* Full title- When Evan Met Author, Or, Why Aren't There Holes In My Clothing? Evan suddenly encounters a life-changing question...Self-insertion, cross-over with X-Men, and randomness.
1. 1

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DISCLAIMER: I own the world. Thus, I own the X-Men as well. _*Marvel shake their heads at her.*_ Oh all right. I don't own the X-Men. Or Star Wars. Or Lifesavers. (the candy, not the people in Baywatch) Or Sydney...

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AUTHORS NOTES: My first Evolution fic! I've only seen like, 6 episodes of the show (although I love it!) so forgive me if I don't screw something up. Yes, you heard me. DON'T screw something up. Mesa on a sugar high!!

Anything _*like this*_ is telepathy, ok?

The sun was shining. Birds were cheeping. Evan had decided that he would make the best of this gorgeous day, and go buy some new wheels for his skateboard. That's why he happened to be walking down the street, carrying a bag of the heavy wheels when SHE appeared.

In a cloud of blue smoke, a girl appeared in mid-air about a metre above the ground before dropping with a scream on top of him. Groaning, Evan pushed her off, and surveyed her with surprise. It wasn't everyday that strange girls dropped out of the sky on top of him- though he wasn't complaining.

"Who are you?" Evan demanded. "And how did you do that?"

The girl stood up, pushed her brown hair out of her eyes, and grinned. "I'm the author of this sad little fic." she announced. "I came here using a plot device, and will remain until I have sufficiently screwed around with your life. Then, I shall disappear, and watch with glee the havoc I have caused."

Evan blinked in surprise. "You're _what_? An author? What the hell does that mean!"

The author waved her hands at him dismissivly. "What I am doesn't matter at the moment. I have a question to ask you that will, hopefully, send you into a state of interesting insanity that I can write about."

Evan was starting to get fed up. Whoever she was, she was obviously crazy, and he just wanted to go home and fix up his board. Not to mention, he had a training session in the Danger Room with Scott in about two hours, and he had to help Kurt to play a suitable prank on Kitty before then. "Well, go on. Ask your question, so I can go home."

The author glared at him for a moment. "No need to be rude about it. Ok, my question is- why aren't there holes in your costume?"

There was silence for a moment. Passerby's stared oddly at the two teenagers staring at each other without speaking, before moving on. Then, Evan spoke up cautiously. "What. The. Hell?"

She sighed. "Well, remember that game of basketball you played with poor Pietro where you were lauded as the hero, and he got shit-all attention? The one your aunt came to watch?"

Evan nodded. "Yeah. And the point is...?" 

She glared at him again, and slapped him lightly over the arm. "Patience! I'm getting to it! Aaanyways...remember how you sneezed in the locker room, and your spikes shot out, and you had heaps of holes in your clothes?"

He frowned. "I remember. How do you know though?"

"I'm an author, remember?" She reminded him. "I know all. But I'm becoming sidetracked. You had holes in your clothes then...but how come, whenever you shoot spikes out when you're in your groovy X-Costume, you never have holes in it?"

"That's easy. It's cause-" Evan paused. "Hey, wait! How does that work!?"

The author smiled smugly. "Bye!" With that, she disappeared again in a cloud of blue smoke. 

"Come back!" Evan cried out to thin air. "My whole world has just been disrupted. **YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE WITHOUT THE ANSWERS!"**

His only reply was a lot of odd looks from the poor innocent citizens, who hurried along to get away from the crazed teenage boy. Evan sat down on the curb, and began pondering what the strange girl had asked him. What to do now? 

Suddenly, he stood up again. He knew what to do! He would head back to the mansion, tell his fellow X-Men exactly what had transpired today, and see if they could help him find an answer to that one question- Why aren't there holes in his costume?

~~~~~

Evan jogged up the steps to the mansion, and slammed the huge door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the enormous establishment. "Kurt?" he called out. "Kitty? Jean? Heeeeellllooooo?" 

Against the back of his mind, he felt a strange tingling sensation, and Jean's awareness brushed against his. _*We're out the back*_ she told him. _*What's the matter, Evan?*_

*I'll tell you in a moment* he informed her, and broke the connection. Evan ran through the winding corridors of the house, through the kitchen, and out the back door, where Jean and Kitty were lounging by the pool. "I have a huge problem." He announced, and the inane chatter ceased as the two girls stared at him.

"Well, like, what is it?" Kitty asked impatiently. "I like, don't have all day!" 

Evan winced as the word 'like' grated against his mind, but pushed it aside. "Well, long story short, I met some girl who called herself an author today. She asked me a strange question that has totally destroyed my mind."

Instead of giving him queer looks, which he had expected, Jean and Kitty just nodded sympathetically. 

"You poor thing." Jean said soothingly. "It was only a matter of time before _they_ started on you too."

"Who?" Evan asked, confused.

Kitty laughed girlishly. "Duh! The, like, authors of course! They're those ones who like, screw around with your life until you like, totally don't know what's going on!"

Evan's jaw dropped. "That's what the girl said! Well, without all those 'likes' of course. How do you know that, Kitty?"

She laughed again. "Like, duh! I have had sooooo many stories, like written about me! By the way," she said thoughtfully to Jean, "am I going out with Kurt this week, or are we just, like, friends?"

Jean pondered. "I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure you're with Kurt. You might want to log onto Fanfiction.Net later, and check out what's going on."

Evan cleared his throat. "Excuse me?"

The two girls ignored him, and continued with their mindless talk about who was going out with who. (Apparently Rogue was fighting off Lance, even while him and Pietro were having a relationship.)

Sighing with annoyance, Evan walked off to find someone else who could help him with his problem. His new motto was 'Never go to a teeny-bopper/valley girl and her companion when in need of help.'

Still annoyed, he walked into the kitchen. "Logan, sir!" he yelled. "Hey, Scott! I'll even take you at the moment. **I NEED HELP!**"

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...Or TV. Or comics. Or my house....oh wait, the Disclaimers over! (Wow, I own nothing!) Ok, that's the first chapter. Weird? **GOOD!** Ok, if you should, for some reason, want more, then you have to review. 


	2. 2

DISCLAIMER: *_jeopardy music_* Who do the X-Men belong to? Is it A) Marvel, or B) Me? Yes, it's A! You all get to read this fic!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You wanted more? Well, your funeral! I was asked to make this a long chapter, and it is longer. But it isn't long. If you have read my Green Eyed Girl, or X-Men on Jerry Springer fics then you will know what I consider to be average length. I actually got complaints from friends that the chapters were **too **long. Well, whatever. Umm, read!

"HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLPPPPPPP!"

Evan's plead raced through the mansion, tearing down passageways, and screaming up staircases. Not a single person in the mansion missed out on hearing it, and all cringed as delicate eardrums protested. Then, ignoring Evan, they went about their business.

Evan waited expectantly at the base of the stairs for a reply. When none came, scowling, he ran upstairs, and pounded on the first door he came to.

"Hey!" He hollered. "Rogue, lemme in already!"

"Rack off!" Evan faintly heard her voice yelling from the other side. Or at least, it was something along those lines. It was a bit hard to hear her over the Gothic music that was belting out of the speakers inside.

"Damnit Rogue, this is important!" 

There was the sound of footsteps, and Rogue flung the door open. "What tha hell do ya want?" She demanded impatiently. Evan's only response was his jaw dropping, and eyes bugging out. "Well? What's wrong with ya?"

"You...you're..." Evan stammered. 

"Yes...?" Rogue drawled. 

"Why so dressed up?" he managed to squeak out.

Rogue glanced down at her extremely short black dress. "Oh this? Ah'm going out tonight with that nice Cajun boy, Remy."

Evan frowned. "Who?"

She sighed impatiently, and rapped him over the head with her knuckles. "Hello? Haven't ya read all those fics by disgruntled Remy fans? Get with the times!"

He shook his head, dumbfounded. _Everyone knows about these "fics" but me! It's a conspiracy!_ Suddenly he noticed something. "Hey!" Evan exclaimed. "Where's your gloves?"

Rogue shrugged. "Miracle cure." she explained. "Gotta love them plot devices, shugah." She squeezed past him, and walked down the hallway unsteadily on her extremely high heels. Evan watched her go, a thin trickle of drool creeping from the corner of his mouth. Then, he snapped back to his senses. "Damn, forgot to ask her about my costume!" He cursed to himself. Then, he got a very anime look of surprise on his face. "And did Rogue just call me _sugar_?"

After pondering this disturbing development in Rogue's behavior for a few moments, he shuddered, and moved down the hallway to Scott's door. Without knocking, he barged in- and was confronted with one of the most frightening sights ever. 

Scott was passionately making out with a pillow. "Oh Jean." He murmured to it, it between slobbery kisses. "You are so beautiful."

Evan gaped for a moment. "That is just _weird_!" he yelled, and Scott dropped the pillow, face turning bright red. 

"Evan, this isn't what it looks like." The glassered mutant began to explain.

****

SLAM!

Evan slammed the door to the den of inequity shut behind him, and shivered he got an unholy case of the creeps, before dashing down the hallway to Kurt's room. Throwing open the door, he ran it, and locked it behind him. Then, he spun around, and yelped in surprise. "Kurt!"

Kurt was hanging upside down from a pole he had specifically asked to be put on the ceiling, his face only a few inches from Evan's. "Guten Morgen.Or is it afternoon now? My clock is broken, and I have been hiding in here from Keety all day."

Evan breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally, someone acting normally! "What did you do this time?"

Kurt grinned, yellow eyes flashing with amusement. "I replaced all of her N'Sync CD's vith some of my burnt CD's of ze Beetles. She vas horrified."

Evan chuckled, as he imagined the look on Kitty's face. "I'll bet. Kurt, I have a question for you."

Kurt **BAMF!**ed down from the ceiling. "Vhat is it? If it's about ze coffee stains and the blue fur stuck to your math homework, I know nozing!"

Evan shook his head. "No, it's about-" he paused. "_WHAT_?!"

Kurt laughed uneasily. "Nozing!" He reassured Evan hastily. "Go on!"

Evan scowled, as he thought of his poor massacred homework, then asked his question. "Kurt, why aren't there holes in my costume?"

Kurt blinked in surprise. "Uh, probably to spare our eyes."

Evan groaned. "No, when I pop my spikes! Why aren't there holes in my clothes?"

Kurt gave him a funny look. "Evan, If I have mis-interpreted vhat you are saying, forgive me...but are you hitting on me?"

Evan gaped at Kurt. "What?! No! I just wanted to know why I get holes in my clothes when I shoot spikes out, but not when I'm in my uniform."

The blue mutant considered this for a moment. "Hmm. I never thought about zat before. I'll help you find ze answer, if you vant. Vhat made you bring it up?"

"This really weird chick appeared outta nowhere today, and fell on me." Evan explained. "She called herself an author, and asked me the question."

Kurt's face seemed to go a little pale underneath the fur. "Did you say 'author'?" he stammered. 

"Yeah, I did. Kurt, what's wrong?"

"Get out!" Kurt unlocked the door, and pushed Evan out. "Go! Don't talk to me until ze fic you are in is done. I don't want to be associated vith any more of zem!"

"What are you doing?" Evan yelled, trying to push his way back into the room.

Kurt **BAMF!**ed. When he reappeared, he was curled up into a ball in the large armchair in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth. His tail twitched madly. "They're vatching me." he whispered. "I can feel zeir eyes on my right now. Zey vant me, you know." he looked around furtively, then whispered conspiratorially to Evan, "I have to be careful zese days. It's too hard to talk to anyone. Zey could be a former girlfriend. I can't even look Kitty in ze eye anymore."

Evan approached his friend in crime slowly. "Kurt, who's watching you?"

"Ze authors, of course." Suddenly, Kurt's yellow eyes took on a decidedly manic tinge. "Don't come near me! I'll be associated vith you, and I'll be included in a story. _JUST BACK AWAY_!"

Evan raised his arms in a defensive gesture. "Ok! I'm leaving now." He told Kurt slowly. Carefully, he backed out of the room. Kurt's eyes remained locked on him the whole way. The moment Evan stepped out of the room, Kurt **BAMF!**ed over to the door, and slammed it shut. Evan heard the lock snicker shut.

"Am I the only one who hasn't gone nuts?" Evan wondered aloud. He decided to go downstairs and check out the rec.-room, and kitchen, to see if there was anyone else there who could help him with his predicament.

~~~~~

"Where's that damned salami?" Evan heard Logan muttering, as he came into the kitchen. He was greeted by a view of Logan's butt, as the hairy mutant leaned further in to the fridge in search of the wayward lunch meat.

"Ahem." Evan said.

"I can smell it, I know it's here..."

"AHEM!"

"What do you want, kid?" Logan growled, without turning around. "And it better be damned good, cause I'm busy."

Evan winced, and sat down at the table. The last thing he wanted to do was annoy the Wolverine, but he knew that the man had seen quite a few things in his long life- maybe even self-repairing costumes. "It's good, alright. And if you listen and help me out, I'll tell you where the salami is."

Logan quickly withdrew from the fridge, managing to bash his head against the top of it in the process. "Deal. What's your question?"

Evan grinned. Finally, progress! And all he had to give in exchange was the location of some meat. Now that he thought about it, that would make a pretty good Monty Python movie..."Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Lunchmeat"...

"KID!"

Logan's yells cut through Evan's daydreaming. "Oh, sorry." he said, grinning sheepishly. Logan just looked annoyed, and Evan decided to quickly ask his question and get out of there. "Why don't I have holes in my costume?"

Logan raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What?"

"Well, when I shoot spikes out of my normal clothing, I get huge holes in it." Evan explained. "But when I shoot them outta my costume, there's nothing there. I want to know what's up with that."

The older mutant shook his head in exasperation. "Kid, why are you asking me for help with _clothing_ matters?"

"Because no one else seems to know why." Evan told him miserably. "I think I've been warped mentally just because of one little question."

"Who have you asked?" 

Ticking them off on his fingers, Evan said, "Well, there was Kitty, and Rogue, and Jean, and Scott..." that one was accompanied by a shudder, "...and Kurt, before he went crazy."

Logan laughed a bit. "You saw all of them, and me, and didn't go to Chuck or 'Ro? If you need help, they're the ones to see. Heck, even _Magneto'_d be a better choice."

Evan ducked his head in shame. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry to have bothered you. It's just that ever since that weird author girl asked me the question, I've just been really desperate for an answer."

****

SNICK!

Evan hastily stood up, and backed away, as Logan's adamantium claws popped out of his hands, and began waving dangerously near his neck. Logan also stood up, keeping his claws right near Evan.

"Ya been befriendin' an author?" Logan asked, voice low and dangerous.

Evan shook his head wildly. "Nope. No, never. Just happened to run into one." He laughed nervously. "Um, can I go now?"

Logan's deadly claws stayed near Evan, and the blond teenager gulped uneasily. "Sure you can go." Logan told him, mock pleasantly. "On two conditions."

Evan nodded. "Yep, anything you want sir."

Logan grinned a feral grin. "Firstly- after I'm finished with you, you leave this kitchen, and don't come near me again until the author has finished her story. Ok?"

"That's fine with me." Evan assured hastily.

Logan grinned again. "Secondly- you tell me where I can find that blasted salami!"

~~~~~

Evan dashed out of the mansion, throwing his board to the ground, and skating up the driveway as fast as possible. After quickly showing Logan where to find his meat, he had decided to be far, far away from the mansion for a while, just in case the hairy mutant decided to change his mind. He'd find the answer to his question some other time.

Wheels scraping on the Bayville sidewalks, he swerved around pedestrians, and ignored the yells of outrage as he made his way towards the movie theater. What he needed was a good ol' dose of wild Hollywood stunts and effects to ease his mind.

Grinding to a halt in front of the cinema, Evan walked inside, and began debating over which movie to see. Tomb Raider looked pretty cool...then again, so did Swordfish. He stopped for a moment to ponder the mysterious resemblance between Hugh Jackman and Wolverine, before he came across a movie that looked all right.

Shrek.

Humming cheerfully to himself, Evan walked over to the ticket booth, and got in line. 

"Hey, look who it is, yo?"

Evan groaned, and turned around slowly. There, he was confronted by the wickedly grinning faces of the Brotherhood. "Hey Pietro. Lance. Todd. Fred." 

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Well, that was a pointless chapter, wasn't it? Evan got nowhere with his problem! Why do I even bother typing this crap...? Next chapter...will the Brotherhood assist with solving Evan's dilemma? Or will they just laugh, and throw popcorn at him? Review, and I'll type another chapter. 


	3. 3

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DISCLAIMER: Umm, they don't belong to me. Marvel and WB Kids own them. I think. Oh, and Star Trek belongs too- Paramount? And Coke belongs to whatever company owns Coke.

Evan ducked lower into his seat, as another round of popcorn was launched at him. The buttered kernels fell into his Super-sized Coke, and he scowled in annoyance. Quickly glancing around to make sure no-one was watching, he quickly twisted in his seat and tossed a handful back. He heard the Brotherhood snicker at his pathetic efforts, and resisted the urge to groan. 

Could the day get any worse? he wondered. First, meeting the author, and being asked the question that had destroyed his mental state for all eternity. Then- _everyone_ in the mansion going crazy, with most refusing to talk to him. And _then_ coming to the cinema for a nice break from madness, only to discover that the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants was there. As if that wasn't enough though, just to torture him a bit more, Pietro and Lance managed to gross him out thoroughly by sharing a long, passionate kiss.

That was the last time that Evan didn't listen to Kitty's gossip a little harder. It would have been nice to have a little more warning that the two shared a relationship.

On the screen, Mike Myers was saying some witty line as Shrek, and most of the audience roared with laughter. Evan sat up straight to see the screen properly, trying to get an idea of what the joke was, when something cold and hard hit him in the back of the head.

"OW!" He yelled loudly, ducking again, and the Brotherhood roared with laughter. Around him, various people made shushing noises and glared at him. Evan glared back, and then shot a killer gaze at the Brotherhood. Popcorn was one thing- ice was another. 

Hiding his arm under his jacket, he grew a bone spike, and snapped it off. Then, making sure all around him were suitably distracted, he once again spun around, preparing to fire. He raised his head up over the protective back of the seat-

And was attacked by a barrage of ice cubes and M&Ms.

Swearing rather fluently under his breath, Evan grabbed his board, stood up, and squeezed past the other people on his row to the aisle. He began to run as he saw the Brotherhood members standing up too. He had made it all the way to the lobby, when a white blur shot past him, before materializing into Pietro. The white haired mutant smiled smugly, and deliberately stood in Evan's way so he couldn't get past. "Hey there- _Spyke._"

Evan tried to squeeze past, but Pietro was too quick, and blocked him again. Behind him, the other Brotherhood members had finally caught up. He could hear Fred snorting with laughter. "Let. Me. Past." He said through gritted teeth.

They just laughed. Lance squeezed past Evan, and stood next to Pietro, wrapping an arm around the boy's waist. "Just why would we want to do that?" he sneered.

"Yeah!" Fred agreed. "Why would we want to do that?" he began to laugh, as if he had done something really smart.

"Shut the hell up!" Lance yelled.

Evan tried to push his way past, but found the couple were unwilling to move. "Just let me go home." Evan growled, sounding suspiciously like Wolverine. "I didn't come here for crap."

"Hey, yo, we just wanna ask you a question, thasall." Todd told him. "You answer it, we'll let ya go wherever it is ya want, X-Geek."

Sighing, Evan decided to accept his fate. "Fine. What's your question?"

Pietro smirked, an expression that seemed to be permanently etched on his face when he was around Evan. "We just want to know why you don't get holes in your stupid X-Freak costume when you shoot your spikes."

Evan's eyes bulged out. "No!" he yelled. "Not you too!" Terror giving him strength, he finally managed to shove his way past, running for the door. The Brotherhood roared with laughter at his horrified expression, as he tossed his board to the pavement, and skated off.

Beside them, in a cloud of blue smoke, a girl appeared. "Good job!" she encouraged them. "Couldn't have done a better job myself. Now, as I promised...50 bucks to each of you." She began distributing cash.

"Why did you need us to ask him that, yo?" Todd asked her curiously. 

The girl grinned. "He was getting too distracted. I needed him to return to his crazy state of mind so I could write about it. I have to be off now, so cheerio!" In a puff of blue smoke, she disappeared again.

"I don't know why the X-Geeks seem to hate author's so much." Pietro commented. "They've always been all right to us."

~~~~~

Evan was nearly tearing up the sidewalk, he was going so fast, when he crashed into the old man wearing the burgundy polo shirt and purple sweat pants.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, before realizing who it was. "Magneto?"

The elderly mutant scowled. "One of Xavier's brats." he grumbled. Suddenly, his blue eyes widened and he hid the bags in his hands behind his back. "Go away!" the man hissed.

Evan leaned around, trying to get a glimpse of what was in the bags. Magneto tried to keep them out of view, but Evan managed to get a glimpse of the big, flashy logos emblazoned onto them. 'Nuclear Weapon's Are Us' and 'Evil Overlord's World'.

"Say, are you planning some sort of evil attack?" he asked Magneto suspiciously. 

Magneto sighed, rolled his eyes, and grabbed Evan's arm. "What do I have to do to keep you quiet?" he growled angrily. "Money? A newer version of that confounded contraption you're holding?"

Evan grinned. "Weeeeeeell..." he drew out. "How about...disbanding the Brotherhood?"

Magneto smiled mock-pleasantly. "How about I slit you open from navel to nose?"

"Uhh.." Evan gulped. Ok, this wasn't going to good. "I know! Could you help me with a problem I have at the moment?"

The man looked down at him skeptically. "What do I have to do?" he asked curiously.

"Just answer this question." Evan assured. "When I shoot my spikes out of my X-Men uniform, why aren't there huge gaping holes in it?"

Magneto frowned, crinkled forehead wrinkling even more. "Hmm. An intriguing question. Do tell me, how did an idiot like yourself come up with something so mentally stimulating? And please, don't make me laugh by telling me that there is actually activity inside that cavernous skull of yours."

Evan scowled, and glared at Magneto. "If you keep insulting me, I'll just go straight to the Professor and tell him you're planning something. Be nice."

An extremely pissed look on his face, Magneto inclined his head slightly. "Fine, I'll do it your way. I honestly have no idea why there aren't holes in your clothing, and frankly, I don't care. To me, you are just something that is preventing me from taking over the world, and you must be squashed like the bug you are- no matter what you are wearing. Now I have fulfilled my end of the deal, so go away!"

"Yeah, whatever." Evan mumbled, making sure to brush against him heavily as he rode by. He hadn't really thought that Magneto of all people would be able to help him, but it had been worth a try. In his mind, Evan began mentally ticking off the people he had asked. There was only his Aunty O and the Professor left to ask now. Both were incredibly bright people. One of them must be able to help him with his problem.

__

~~~~~

"Hey, Aunty O!" Evan hollered, pounding on the door to her attic room. He wasn't about to go barging in to people's bedrooms anymore, not after the horrific incident with Scott. "Can I come in? I need to talk to you."

"The door is unlocked, Evan." came the calm reply from the other side. Evan pushed the door open, and walked in. Ororo was floating high in the room, near the open skylight. As she gestured, a cloud of rain formed above some of the green, leafy plants that adorned her abode, giving them much needed moisture. As Evan walked in, she floated gracefully down, and alighted on the ground in front of him. "What did you want to talk about, child?"

Evan sighed. "Why aren't there holes in my uniform when I shoot my spikes out?" he asked her. "Please tell me, it's been bugging me all day!"

She frowned. "Why do you wish to know?"

Her nephew paused, to think about his motive. He was about to tell her that it was all for a 'fic' and he couldn't escape until he found an answer, but Ororo continued before he had a chance to begin his explanation. "Tell me, is it a girl?"

"Huh?" Evan asked, confused.

His aunt smiled gently. "It is to impress a girl? I understand that the uniforms you wear are perhaps not the most fashionable of outfits, and that the ripped look may be in again."

Evan shook his head. "No! It's not that!"

She just gave him a knowing look. "Of course Evan. I believe you." she said, in a tone that indicated that she didn't believe him at all. 

"Comon, Aunty O, it's not that at all." Evan pleaded. "I have to know cause I'm trapped in a story until I find an answer!"

Ororo smiled again. "Is it a romance story?"

"_NO!_" Evan yelled. "At least, I don't think it is. What's your obsession with romance anyway?"

His aunt looked sad for a moment, and Evan felt guilty. "I'm deprived." she told him gloomily. "I see all these stories about Kurt and Kitty, and Pietro and Lance, but do I ever get a little lovin'? No! I'm so lonely." She sighed, a melancholy sigh. "I was hoping that it is not a genetic trait."

Evan gave her an odd look. "Ooooook." he said in his best speaking-to-mad-person voice, and began slowly backing away. "I don't need love, just some help with my question. Do you think the Professor could help me?"

"Why wouldn't he be able to?" she said, voice full of sarcasm. "The great Professor, able to help everyone except me with their problems. Would it be so hard to use Cerebro to help me find a nice, mutant man? Would it kill him? It's not like that stupid machine..."

Evan didn't hear the rest of the sentence. He was too busy running down the stairs in terror. Everyone was going crazy! "I have to find an answer fast, before the world gets turned upside down!" he muttered, as he reached the Professor's study. "Professor! Help me!" he cried out, pounding on the heavy oaken door.

*_Come in, Evan._* came the telepathic reply. 

Evan pushed it open, and walked inside. Charles Xavier was sitting in his customized wheel chair in front of the fire. In his hand was a plastic phaser from Star Trek, and he fired it at the blonde haired boy as he walked in. "Pshew! Pshew! Take that, Romulan scum!"

"Uhh..." Evan stared at him oddly. "I don't know if you'll be able to help me at the moment..."

"Yes I can!" the Professor yelled suddenly. "I already know what you're going to ask, and the answer to your question, for I am a Bedezoid!"

"Stay outta my head." Evan said crossly. "And what the hell is a Bedezoid?"

"We are a telepathic race." The Professor said solemnly, folding his hands in his lap. "And you better show me a bit more respect if you want me to tell you why you don't get holes in your costume."

Evan gaped. He had a choice here. He could run as fast as he could into the sunset, or he could stay with the loony and finally get out of the fanfic. He opted for the latter. "Alright. Could you just tell me?"

Xavier nodded. "The reason you don't get holes- take **that** you Romulans!" he suddenly yelled, throwing himself out of his wheelchair, and rolling across the ground, firing the plastic phaser as he went. Evan rubbed his temples in annoyance.

"PROFESSOR!" he yelled. "STOP IT!"

Xavier stopped rolling. "Sorry." he said sheepishly. "I get a bit bored, what with being cooped up in a wheelchair all the time. Could you, uh, help me back in?"

Sighing, Evan walked over, and helped the bald, Star Trek wannabe into his wheelchair. "Now." he said when he was done. "Could you please tell me the answer to my question? WITHOUT the Romu-whatsits?"

"Alright." Xavier grumbled. "You're no fun though. The reason you don't get holes in your costume is because your uniform is a plot device."

Evan's eyes widened. "A what?"

"A plot device." Xavier explained. "A fortuitous event or object of an author's creation enabling a plot to achieve the desired outcome. You, my dear boy, wear one every time you go in to battle, or train. There are plot devices all around us, you need only know where to look, and have a cynical mind."

"Wow." Evan murmured. "It all makes sense now!"

Xavier smiled. "Of course it does. Plot devices also make good excuses."

Evan grinned happily. "I can lead a normal life now! Thankyou Professor!" Sighing happily, Evan walked off to watch Dragon Ball Z.

~~~~~

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LOCATION: SOME PLACE WHERE AUTHORS AND CHARACTERS CAN MEET...UMM, LET'S SAY IT'S A VERSION OF THE SUB-REALITY CAFE, OK? 

The author of "W E M A O W A T H I M C?" sipped her coke, and leaned back in her comfy chair. A notebook lay on the table in front of her, with lines of text scrawled hastily in blue biro. The person sitting beside her scooped it up, and read through the last few paragraphs quickly.

"So, what do you think?" the author asked him.

Remy grinned. "I t'ink you were too nice to him, petite, but it works ok. Remy 'as his revenge!"

The author patted him on the arm comfortingly. "I thought you'd like it. I myself can't believe that WB Kids left you out of Evolution, and created some whole new person at the same time. You came to the right person to get revenge."

He laughed. "Well, if you don't mind, petite, I 'ave to go now, and meet Rogue, seein' as you did hook us up in de second chapter. I don' know what de Evolution Rogue is like, but Remy know dat comic Rogue would be most pissed if he was late for a date."

"Ok then." The author said. "Have fun. And be good!" she warned, leveling a finger at him, and flipping to a new page of her notebook.

"Yeah yeah, Remy'll behave 'imself. Oh wait!"

The author looked up. "Yeah?"

Remy grinned sheepishly. "Ah, I t'ink I'm a bit old for de femme, non? Would you, ahh...make me a bit younger?"

Sighing mock-exasperatedly, the author scribbled a few lines in her notebook. In a puff of blue smoke, Remy turned into a seventeen year old guy. "Merci, petite." he called, before disappearing. 

Sucking on the end of her biro thoughtfully, the author considered for a moment. Suddenly, inspiration struck. "Ah hah!" she mumbled, and started to scrawl down her new story of doom. 

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HAHA! And you thought I'd leave the Evolution section alone when this was done. Well, you were WRONG! I already have a new Evo fic in the works, though it will take me a while before I get around to posting it. I'd like to say a very big THANKYOU to all who reviewed, and if you could do the same just one last time, I would be thrilled. Merci! 


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